


to know you is to love you

by thenewdarling



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2020-07-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 17:49:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25310392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thenewdarling/pseuds/thenewdarling
Summary: Geralt and Jaskier spend most of their nights bickering. But very, very rarely, sincerity breaks through.__(Geralt/Jaskier’s first time, have never read the books)
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 5
Kudos: 84





	to know you is to love you

Geralt stirred, and considered rolling over onto his other side on the tiny bed - but found he simply didn't have the energy.

Jaskier tapped him again.

He grunted. "Hmm. What do you want?"

" _Oh_ , nothing," Jaskier said with a saccharine cheeriness, twiddling his thumbs. "Just I know you don't expect me to sleep on the ground like an animal!"

"Jaskier, I was bleeding out three hours ago."

"Oh, don't be silly. It was at least five," Jaskier said. "Though I can understand your confusion, you were unconscious for a while."

Geralt grunted again.

"Which, from what I've heard, is just as good as a rest!" Jaskier said. "So, what do you say? Up and at 'em, big boy! Go sort out your hammock thing and I'll take the nice comfy bed of leaves!"

"How you've survived this long without having your throat wrung is beyond me."

"Believe me, I have asked for it many times," Jaskier said. "But they always look into my large, doe-like eyes and stop short of releasing me from this mortal coil."

"Jaskier, I am dying."

"So am I, of exhaustion," Jaskier said.

Geralt looked at him. Jaw gritted, those golden eyes set with distant fury like a fire blazing just over the horizon. Nothing saw that fury up close and drew breath for long, Jaskier thought.

"Ugh, come on, Geralt!" he kicked him in frustration. "I'm this close to sleeping on the bloody horse!"

Geralt groaned, and rolled over like a pancake on a skillet so he was lying face-down in the dirt.

Jaskier clapped his hands and leapt into the den of leaves. They were warm from where Geralt had been lying on them.

After a few moments, Jaskier realised Geralt wasn't getting up.

"Geralt?"

No response.

He sat up in the den of leaves.

He poked Geralt's mountainous shoulder.

"Hm," Geralt said, not lifting his head.

"Are you literally going to sleep on the floor."

"I told you I wasn't moving. This is my compromise," Geralt said.

Jaskier turned his nose up. "Fine." And he rolled over and tried to get some sleep in his ill-gotten bed.

#

The truth was, Geralt actually was more or less fine. Physically, at least. Witchers heal quick, after all. 

He was just mentally exhausted - and Jaskier was, at the best of times, mentally exhausting. And if this kept him from clambering onto Roach's saddle -

"Geralt."

Damn this world. "Hm."

"Are you asleep?"

"Not anymore."

"Open your eyes."

"... No."

He didn't need his eyes open, he could hear the pouting.

He opened them.

Jaskier was leaning over the side of the pile of leaves like it was a sleepover, eye-to-eye with Geralt.

"What do you want now, Jaskier?"

"Do you love Yennefer?"

"... What?"

"Do you love her?"

"I don't know. Why?"

"How can you not know? It's a very simple yes/no question..."

He looked at Jaskier. Really looked at him. Tried very, very hard to understand what went on in that brain of his. The man had the attention span of a house cat, focused entirely on a spider for about four minutes before suddenly deciding it doesn't exist and walking away.

"I don't know," Geralt said again. "I don't know what love feels like."

Jaskier looked at him like a puppy that'd just been thrown in a lake.

Geralt groaned and rolled over on his back again, looking at the constellations for a second before closing his eyes.

"No, Geralt, you do not get to say that and then just go to fucking bed!"

"Goodnight, Jaskier."

"Geralt-!"

_"Goodnight, Jaskier."_

There was a moment when Geralt legitimately thought Jaskier was going to let him sleep.

And then the fucking lute started.

_"When he finds himself, a tad forlorn,_  
_Our Witcher friend, target of scorn_ \- no, actually, fuck that, that's shit-"

"Jaskier, please stop. It's very late."

"... Ok," Jaskier said, quietly.

Geralt lay there in the dark with his eyes closed a minute, enjoying the silence.

And then he felt Jaskier's hand rest on his. The weight was comforting.

He squeezed it, not sure why.

"OW!" Jaskier yelped, wriggling his hand free. "Fucking hell, Geralt! You could've broken my hand! I need that hand!"

"Sorry," Geralt said. "It was an accident. I hope it doesn't affect your lute playing."

"No, it's fine. It's the other hand that plays the lute," Jaskier said. "This hand is for supporting the shaft." He picked up the lute, signalling how he held the neck of it.

Geralt rolled his eyes and flopped back down.

"Well come on, don't go off on a sulk like a seven-foot-tall baby."

"No, you ruined it."

"Ruined what?" Jaskier said, but Geralt didn't reply. "Look, I'm sorry."

"How could you be? You don't-" Geralt said, and then he tensed. Jaskier watched Geralt do this all the time when he was stopping himself from voicing a feeling - the first time he'd seen it, he'd thought it was trapped wind.

"No, say it!"

"You whisper sweet nothings in the ear of every bar hand and duchess that takes your fancy. You've never been for want of love."

"And?"

"If this is love, it's shallow," Geralt said. "It gives you no nourishment, and it lasts only until your balls are empty."

Jaskier blinked. "Geralt..." 

Frankly, he didn't appreciate the slut-shaming, but it looked like Geralt was genuinely having a crisis or something.

"Goodnight, Jaskier."

"No! You've said your piece, now let me say mine," Jaskier said.

"You spend all day saying your piece. Every night you keep me up, telling me your fucking piece. If I could only have five minutes of actual fucking peace..."

"Well, first thing - I did love them. All of them," Jaskier said. "I've never lied about it. Not once. And yes, that may be frivolous, but it doesn't mean it's not real."

Geralt rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"And, second thing, of course it doesn't give me nourishment. But I've felt that love too, of course I have."

And at this, Geralt levelled a sarcastic stare at Jaskier. "Oh really. And who, pray tell, was this for?"

Jaskier just stared at him, like Geralt had just slapped him in the face.

Geralt waited, confused. "Well?"

"Are you joking?"

Geralt faltered. "... What are you talking about?"

"Geralt," Jaskier said. And he looked genuinely hurt. "Who do you think?"

Geralt's face dropped. "I don't... I don't understand."

"I follow you around day and night, writing literal ballads of your glory. You've saved my life, god knows how many times..." Jaskier swallowed. "Geralt, I wouldn't be standing here without you. Of course I love you."

Geralt was breathing heavily. He didn't know what to say. What to do. How to process this.

"It's ok," Jaskier said. "If you don't feel the same way. I just... I've never been anything but honest, I don't plan on lying now."

He reached out, tentatively, for Jaskier's hand again. Resting it on it, gently, he let it sit there for a second. 

Was this love? He certainly felt something - his heart beating, his palms sweating, and a tightness around his throat. It didn't feel particularly comfortable.

Jaskier looked down at their hands, entwined, and up into Geralt's eyes.

They watched each other, the microexpressions on each others' faces. He'd never really looked at Geralt's face this closely. His lashes were long and silver, and his lips were pursed in a way that showed just a little of his pearl teeth.

Geralt gulped. He found himself so frustrated with Jaskier all the time. And yet, on the nights they were separated, he found himself feeling this tremendous loneliness. Like his presence indicated a certain amount of safety. He couldn't explain it.

Maybe that was love. He couldn't possibly be sure though...

"Geralt."

"Hmm." It was like he thought he could pull the answer out of Jaskier's eyes if he looked deeply enough.

"Geralt, are you going to kiss me?"

"I think so," he said. "Is that ok?"

Jaskier nodded, with a longing look in his eye.

Geralt placed his other hand on Jaskier's cheek and gently leaned in.

Their lips were pliant, gentle, together.

And oh. Oh, this was different. There had been quite a few of any gender, and Geralt had never felt anything quite like this before with any of them.

Pressing back, Geralt climbed into the bed of leaves, peppering Jaskier's porcelain neck with kiss after kiss after kiss as Jaskier pulled first Geralt's shirt up over his head, then his own.

"Oh. Wait," Geralt said, stopping for a second, and reaching over.

"What? What is it?"

He lifted Jaskier's shirt, a silken dark blue tunic, off the ground and quickly, efficiently folded it so it would rest on top of his and off of the mud. "I remember you buying that one,” he said. “It cost a month's wages."

Jaskier laughed and it came out like a bark. "I don't know what I was expecting, but it wasn't that."

Geralt leaned over him, running his course large hands through Jaskier's soft hair. Kissing his jawline, Jaskier stroked down Geralt's arms, his chest, towards his belt buckle.

His hands were shaking, Geralt noticed, as he reached to get the olive oil out of his bag.

Jaskier pulled down his own trousers, revealing that pert little butt. Geralt couldn't help but be reminded of the first time he'd walked in on Jaskier railing that bloody King's daughter. He smirked.

Standing on his knees, he lubed up his shaft with the olive oil, giving it a couple of pumps with his hand. A globule of precum dripped from the end. "Are you sure you wanna do this?" he said, double-checking.

Jaskier looked down at his own twitching erection, legs in the air, and looked at him incredulously. "Uh, yeah!"

He lined up as he lowered back into kissing. Geralt's beard was starting to hurt Jaskier's face but that somehow made it better? Jaskier rested one hand on one of Geralt's broad shoulders and the other in the crook of his arm as -

There was a slight moment of panic as Geralt plunged in, like Jaskier had fallen from a height. Instinctively he clenched into Geralt's shoulder, inhaling sharply-

"You ok?"

"Mhm," Jaskier said, releasing his grip as he exhaled and let Geralt fill him. "Yeah. The size is..." he tried not to wheeze. "Not inconsiderable." Then he started to relax. 

He moaned quietly into Geralt's ear, and then Geralt began to thrust.

They panted as they rutted against each other, each clinging to the other like they were holding on for dear life. Jaskier nestled his face in the muscled crook of Geralt's neck, breathing in the smell of burning wood and steel.

"Jaskier," Geralt murmured, and the deep bass of his voice reverberated through his chest into Jaskier's body.

"Yes?" Jaskier said, wrapping his legs around Geralt's back, holding him tighter.

"I love you," he said. They were like pistons now, but Jaskier looked up and their eyes caught each other. There was a look of almost shock in Geralt's face, like he'd surprised himself.

Jaskier smiled, his eyes glittering. "I love you too." 

And Geralt believed him.

And then, as though caught by surprise, Jaskier's face twitched, and he jutted, clenching around Geralt's cock as he shot ropes of white on his chest.

Geralt grunted as he came inside Jaskier - thrusting once, twice, a third time, as Jaskier relaxed and melted into him.

Limbs like taffy, they lay in each others' arms, staring up at the sky.

After a time, Geralt looked at Jaskier. "What are you thinking about?"

"Where you found the bed of leaves," Jaskier said, suddenly suspicious. "There better not be any poison ivy in here." He looked around, as though he would be able to do anything about it now. "You?"

Geralt shrugged. "Hm." 

Jaskier knew that face. He was sure he'd find out eventually, when Geralt knew how to share it.

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first smut I’ve shared so thank you for reading!
> 
> Remember kids, don’t send your fictional characters into the bedroom without lube!


End file.
